On the day of the state-wide exam, the Johanson family's real daughter accused me of cheating.

Two perfect-score papers lay side by side, identical in every detail. No matter how I argued, I could not clear my name.

Everyone sided with her. They branded me a cheater and cast me out of the Johanson family in front of everyone.

To appease her, the Johansons went even further. They used their influence to blacklist me across every industry within their reach.

I ended up sleeping on the streets. One hardship followed another until my thoughts dulled and a car struck me with such force that it sent me airborne.

Even at the end, one question haunted me: "Why did my paper match hers?"

Then I opened my eyes and found myself back in the exam room.

This time, I turned in a blank sheet. I wanted to see for myself how someone who scored zero could possibly copy anyone.

Matthew Wallace, the Dean of Students, stood at the front of the classroom behind the lectern like a judge on the bench. "Bridget Johanson, I've already reached your parents. They're on their way."

Students crowded around him, forming a tight circle, eager for spectacle.

"This is cheating on the district-wide joint exam. The circumstances are extremely serious." He leaned forward, his voice sharp. "If your parents don't arrive, we will begin the withdrawal process immediately. And once that mark goes on your record, you can forget about ever turning your life around."

I stood at the center of the room, my expression blank.

In my previous life, this was the moment they branded me a plagiarist. Everything I had built collapsed. My future went into freefall.

Now the so-called victim, Alyssa Johanson, the real Johanson daughter, stood beside me.

Her eyes were rimmed red, her lashes damp. She wore a fragile look that invited protection, as if a raised voice might shatter her.

"Mr. Wallace, everyone…" Her voice trembled. "Please don't blame my sister. This is all my fault."

Tears slid down her cheeks in clean, deliberate drops. "It was me. I didn't hide my test paper properly. I shouldn't have scored so high…"

She swallowed, as if the admission hurt. "If I had scored a little lower, or written a few wrong answers on purpose, my sister wouldn't have… She wouldn't have taken this path just to beat me."

Hector Paul, the homeroom teacher, flushed with rage. "Alyssa, you're too kind. How could any of this be your fault?"

He jabbed a finger at me without turning his head. "She's the one with a rotten heart. You earned first place on your own. Why should you give it to her?"

Alyssa shook her head and scanned the room with patient sorrow. "You don't understand. My sister is actually very pitiful. She just wanted to stay in the Johanson family."

Her soft, apologetic gaze drifted toward me, as though she were generously explaining my cruelty. "Ever since I came back, she's been anxious. She was afraid our parents would love only me and stop loving her. She wanted a high score to prove herself."

She paused, as if summoning courage. "This time, I volunteered to let her copy."

A hush settled over the room.

"She… Two days ago at home, she got so angry that she locked me out on the balcony all night. She wouldn't let me come inside."

Her shoulders shook. "I was so cold. I was so scared… She said if I didn't help her get the recommendation slot, she would make sure I had no place in the Johanson family."

She wiped at her tears, trembling harder. "So I left my paper where she could see it. I don't blame her. I really don't."

The classroom erupted.

"What? She locked you on the balcony all night? It's winter. That could kill someone!"

"I knew it. Alyssa is always catching colds. So that's why. Bridget's been abusing her."

"That's disgusting. Stealing her place wasn't enough, now she wants her dead too?"

A boy who trailed Alyssa everywhere shot to his feet and pointed at me, his voice breaking with anger. "Bridget, do you have any shame? Alyssa is that kind and you treat her like this? Get out of our class. We don't want a toxic woman as our classmate."

"Yeah. Get out of Class Two."

"Cheating trash."

"Bully."

The insults crashed over me in waves until they merged into a single roar.

Last time, I lost control and slapped her. The crack of skin against skin gave them exactly what they wanted, undeniable proof and a tidy ending.

This time, I stayed still. I let the noise roll through me and fade.

I calmly surveyed the room, then fixed my gaze on Alyssa. She was still crying, still hiding that careful glint in her eyes.

"Alyssa, nice story," I said evenly.

"You said I locked you on the balcony. You said I pushed you down the stairs. You said I forced you to cheat." I held her stare. "Where's the evidence?"

I tilted my head slightly. "So all it takes is you moving your lips, and I become an unforgivable monster?"

Alyssa flinched as if I had struck her. She shrank back and ducked behind Paul, shaking as though she could barely stand.

"Bree, don't be angry," she whispered.

"I really didn't want to say it. Everyone kept asking me…" Her voice broke at precise moments. "I didn't want you to get expelled."

"Enough." Hector slammed his hand on the desk. "Bridget, even now you refuse to admit it. You dare to threaten the victim. With that attitude, you are beyond saving."

He pointed at the door, as if security were already waiting. "When your parents arrive, I will tell them everything you've done, in front of the entire class."

He had barely finished when the classroom door flew open.

"No need to wait. We heard all of it." A middle-aged man's voice cut through the noise, tight with fury that seemed to flatten the air.

My adoptive parents, Albert Johanson and Anita Lane, stood in the doorway, frost clinging to their faces.

Two bodyguards loomed behind them, broad enough to block the hallway lights. Their shadows swallowed the entrance.

The moment Alyssa saw them, her tears broke loose. She wrenched herself free from the crowd and threw herself into Anita's arms.

"Dad, Mom. You're finally here…" She buried her face in Anita's chest and sobbed. "Please don't blame Bree. It's my fault. I caused her to be punished…"

Anita looked stricken. She held Alyssa tight and stroked her back, whispering soft reassurances.

Then she raised her head and looked at me. Disgust filled her eyes. "Bridget, you're beyond saving. When Aly first came back, how many times did I tell you? Give in to your younger sister. Be sensible. Our family fed and clothed you for 18 years. We treated you like our own daughter."

Her voice sharpened. "And this is what we raised? An ungrateful snake with a rotten heart? Aly said you bullied her at home. We didn't believe it at first. We thought you weren't that bad. We even defended you in front of her. But you? You would even cheat on a district exam. You tried to force Aly to take the blame?"

Her gaze was cutting. "Did you think that if you ruined Aly, you could keep your place as the Johanson family's eldest daughter? You're dreaming. A fake will always be a fake. You're not worth even one of Aly's toes."

I had heard those words in my previous life, again and again. I told myself they would not hurt this time. I was wrong.

Thin, sharp pain crept in like needles beneath my skin.

There was a time when Anita stayed up all night at my bedside while I burned with fever. A time when someone called me a bastard child and she marched to their door, dignity cast aside, and demanded an apology.

She once said that both daughters were born from her own blood. She swore she would not neglect me just because Alyssa had come home. Now she took every lie Alyssa spun and drove it into me without hesitation.

"So it's true. Even her parents are saying it."

"See? You never know someone's real face. A fake heiress is still fake. Bad blood runs deep."

Whispers swirled around me, but I ignored them.

I looked at Anita with the last scrap of hope I had left.

"Mom," I said, my voice steady. "Do you really believe I would copy someone else's exam? That I would bully Alyssa at home? Eighteen years together. Does that count for less than a few months of her tears?"

"The facts are right in front of us," Albert snapped.

He strode forward and flung a stack of papers at my feet. The pages skidded across the tile.

"The dean already sent me the evidence. Two identical test papers. Even the typos are the same. What more proof do you want? Alyssa is first in the grade. You're barely scraping by. Do you expect us to believe she copied you?"

His face reddened. "For a recommendation slot, you stooped this low to steal what belongs to Aly. "Do you know how much she suffered growing up in the countryside? She finally earns first place on her own, and you still try to snatch it away? Have you no conscience at all? You've shamed the Johanson family."

In Anita's arms, Alyssa kept crying.

Still, she did not miss the chance to twist the knife. "Dad, please don't be so angry. Bree might have just been confused for a moment. Usually… she treats me fine."

She paused at just the right moment. "Sometimes, she calls me a country bumpkin. Says I don't deserve to enter the Johanson family. Says everything here belongs to her…"

"What?" Anita's voice rose. "She dared to say that to you?"

"I didn't." The words tore out before I could stop them. "I have never said that. And I never needed to fight over any recommendation slot."

I met Albert's eyes, then Anita's. "Did you forget? I received an early admission recommendation letter from Cranston University last month."

I held their gaze. "Why would I need to cheat?"

The room fell silent for a full second. Then laughter burst out.

The dean doubled over the podium, laughing until his eyes watered. "Bridget, if you're going to lie, at least draft it first.

"A Cranston University recommendation? With your usual scores barely scraping the low hundreds? Did you just wake up from a dream?"

Alyssa looked at me with strained patience, as if indulging someone unstable. "Bree, I know you want to prove yourself. But a lie like that? It's too easy to expose."

She let out a soft sigh. "There are only a handful of recommendation spots for Cranston University in the entire state. How could one possibly go to you? You can't even recite the basic formulas."

Albert's face darkened. His hand trembled as he pointed at me.

"To cover your mistake, you invent something this absurd?" His voice rose with each word. "How did the Johanson family raise someone this shameless? Bridget, get on your knees."

The words cracked through the classroom.

"Get on your knees and apologize to Aly. If you don't, I'll break your legs today."

I straightened my spine and stood my ground.

"Why should I apologize?" My voice remained level. "I didn't cheat. I didn't bully her. Everything you're hearing is a script Alyssa wrote for herself."

I swept my gaze across the room. "You have no evidence. Just a few lines from her, and I'm suddenly the villain? Use your brains. If anyone should apologize, it's her. She slandered me in front of—"

A hard slap cut me off.

Pain exploded across my face. The iron taste of blood filled my mouth. My ears rang so loudly that the edges of the room blurred.

Around me, I saw satisfaction and smug relief, as if justice had just been served.

I was done arguing with these people.

I spat the blood onto the floor, lifted my head, and looked straight at the three members of the Johanson family.

"That slap repays the Johanson family for 18 years of raising me." My voice did not waver. "From this moment on, I cut all ties with you."

They froze.

"What did you just say?" Albert's brow knotted.

"You think something as useless as you can survive without the Johanson family?" He gave a cold laugh. "Fine. I'd like to see how long you last. Don't expect us to open the door when you come crawling back."

"I have no interest in Alyssa's so-called first place," I said. "And I would never lower myself to copy it."

Matthew snorted. "This is ridiculous. Bridget, did that slap knock your brain loose? The evidence is solid, and you still dare to say you 'wouldn't lower yourself'?"

He jabbed a finger at me. "Who do you think you are? Some kind of genius prodigy?"

Alyssa dabbed at her tears. For a split second, triumph flashed in her eyes. "Bree, if you don't want to admit it, fine. But why be so stubborn? The whole school knows you're a poor student. You copied. That's all. If you just admit your mistake, Mom and Dad will still forgive you."

Anita pressed a hand to her chest as if she might faint. "What a disgrace. A disgrace to this family. How did the Johanson family end up with a liar who refuses to repent?"

Her voice sharpened. "Get out. Leave this family today. We don't have a daughter like you."

I looked at all of them and felt nothing: no panic, no anger, only clarity.

"Then bring out my original exam paper," I said. "Or pull up the scanned copy from the grading system."

I met Matthew's eyes. "One look, and the truth will be obvious."